A Silence of Pondering
by skrewtkeeper
Summary: A task is presented to the unwilling, but when finally agreeable, what is to happen, or sprout? & The MMAD-ness continues...


_**a/n: **Please note that, as the author, I'm a bit iffy about the ending, but oh well. I wrote this very late last night, and I hope everyone enjoys it! _

**A Silence of Pondering**

"Albus, I _can't_ go with you." It was neither a request, nor a suggestion. It was more of an order, instead of a refusal. Additionally, the way her green eyes flared up so quickly against the radiance of the sun caused Dumbledore to step down, if only a little.

"Minerva, I have no other to accompany, and the prospect of you saying yes _**was**_ quite a happy thought," Albus began thoughtfully, trailing off.

Minerva stiffened. Yes, the thought of accompanying him was _**quite**_ a happy thought, though the sudden light of happiness faded once she learned what she was to do. Minerva did not hike. That was all there was to it. This simple fact seemed overlooked by Dumbledore and his nature-loving ways. How could he have not seen the way her lips became thin once any idea of a walk that was more than 'just a walk' cropped up?

Albus smiled weakly up at her before quickly adding, "Oh, I just want to show you one little thing. It would be very quick, and _then_ you could return to the affairs you were busying yourself with…."

Minerva rolled her eyes heavenwards, before spitefully replying, "Oh, oh all right. But you promised to make it quick…"

Dumbledore turned around from his beginning of the journey, and shot her a puzzled look. "Minerva, when have I ever _not_ honored your wishes? I promised, and I shall stick to it!" he smiled encouragingly at her. Minerva lost herself in those deceptive blue eyes of his for a moment, before following closely behind.

A few minutes passed into their so-called 'nature walk', (which lead off an unused path near Hogsmeade), when Minerva began complaining under her breath. "This is all your fault you know," she muttered to herself. "You're the one that agreed to his proposal, and to what cost? This is--Albus!!" her last word was a shout as she found herself slipping against the loose gravel that _no one_ had thought to warn about.

Out of nowhere, a reassuringly warm and strong hand clasped hers, and pulled her uprightly. Her knees nearly gave way under shock of finding who pulled her up. It was _Albus_!

"I am truly, dreadfully, and utterly sorry Minerva, but you seemed to have shouted my name, and when I saw you slipping, I wasn't going to let you-- let you--" Dumbledore's words ceased to come once he glanced at Minerva fully examining her hand; still tightly clasped inside of his. Without another word, Minerva strolled in front, towing Dumbledore up that hill.

It only took a few seconds for a sixth-year couple to scurry from the trees once their footsteps approached a thicket of trees. At the sound of rustling leaves, Albus and Minerva let go of each other's hands simultaneously, having no desire to arouse suspicion, or in this case, gossip.

"Ah," whispered Dumbledore amusedly aloud after the sixth years bolted from their tree, clutching one another's hands for support as they pelted down the length of the hill. "We are never fully alone, aren't we Minerva?"

Minerva said nothing, and instead resorted in biting her tongue, for she knew if she spoke, a foolish confession of love would spew forth from her undesirable lips. Just because he had held her hand did _not_ mean that he loved her. She was a foolish klutz, she knew it, and knew _he_ knew it. Above all, she wished she had never agreed to go on this hike. It was such an uncanny way for him to magnify her weaknesses that she almost smiled. How had she not grasped his true intentions?

"Minerva," began Dumbledore softly, and uncertainly. "You've said hardly a word tonight. Is something the matter? Has something run amok?"

Minerva waited for a moment on bated breath, longing she had some word that would enlighten her intellect to a point with a word such as 'amok'. Yet, she had none, and knew that her next words would sound relatively inferior next to that of _The_ Albus Dumbledore's, nevertheless, she responded with, "No, nothing is the matter. I'm just a bit… ah… frazzled is all." Minerva beamed halfheartedly to give her words better effect; she knew the word 'frazzled' was considered informal, but what _was_ formal and informal? How could a word be christened with a label that suggested how terrible it was, and yet, it was not often heard in conversation?

Albus seemed to understand, and ginned back. "Well, we can always continue onwards tomorrow, if you're not up to it, that is, my dear."

Minerva's breath caught in her throat once more, but somehow, she fought it off, and hastily silenced his offer. "Oh, no, I'm fine Albus. Just keep going, and I will continue to follow."

This time, Albus did not look entirely convinced. "Are you certain Minerva? We can, as I have said before, turn around and then return tomorrow. It will not be any trouble to me if that is what you are thinking," he trailed off, lost in thought again. "In fact, I believe you would appreciate what I am about to show you if you were in better spirits anyway. A challenged temperament, such as, forgive me, yours _does_ ruin everything, does it not?" he inquired apologetically.

"Albus, I do _**not**_ have a challenged temper," Minerva huffed irritably as she began walking in his wake. "I'm _alright_. Is that not enough for you?!"

"No," he crooned, "but _this_ is." Almost discreetly, Dumbledore pulled back a curtain of leaves, which revealed the great, tumbling hills and cliffs where the very four Founders erected the magical school of Hogwarts. The sun had just begun its descent behind the most distant rolling hills, and even Minerva McGonagall herself had no words to describe the beauty concerning the likes of the modest, yet elegant sunset.

"Exquisite is it not?" Dumbledore rhetorically questioned at her abrupt muteness.

"Oh, it's _beautiful_ Albus," she sighed in wonder. A moment of silence lingered upon the two of them, but it was not uncomfortable. On the contrary, it was a silence of pondering, in which thoughts, sorted and amended, were, at last, perfected. This time, it was Minerva's turn to break the palpable, pleasant lack of communication. "Oh, Albus?"

"Yes my dear?"

Minerva hesitated, but she _had_ to tell him, for if she did not, this whole adventure would be a lost cause, and a lost chance of when she could tell him her true feelings. These chances, she knew, came very rarely, and they if were not seized upon, another chance may never come. "I am very glad you went through all of that trouble to bring me, well, rather, force me in your little hike. It's more than what I expected, that is for certain."

"Oh really?" Dumbledore asked, slightly chuckling. "Well, I cannot witness something as great as this without my Minerva," he said softly, pulling Minerva into an embrace, and a tender, yet gentle kiss.

Once the shock broke through, (and the kiss was over), Minerva gazed at Dumbledore questioningly. "But Albus, how did you _**know**_ I loved you?" she interrogated in a hushed tone, breathing heavily as the surprise wrought its wrath upon her.

"Oh Minerva, do not think that I knew. I am not yet so smart. I _guessed_."


End file.
